We are leaving tracks in the mud, the vegetation
in the water, the stone, the leaf, the cement,
tracks in the belly of history, the heart
of the man, tracks in the other profile of the world.

We are marching by the time, continuing the work
painting our flags to him, the cannot be waived dream,
we are impregnating the dignity to him beyond the visible thing
most human of the human, the certainty that contains everything
revolt; we go and we return to return to start off, knowing
that we know without knowing, simply we are marching, with
greatness, without fearing to him to the death, killing it in the fight
loving the life too much that dreams about being Life.

We go being women and men, humans with insobornables
values, neither enslaved merchandise nor, beings who by knowing itself free
they are constructing his last Freedom, its more touching song,
its redentora poetry; we go because the pain, the hunger and
oppression surrounds to us, for that reason never we can let go,
not to begin to die to us absolutely, leaving the way him
to those who think about arming our definitive funeral.

We are leaving tracks of resistance, example, valentía
and sacrifice, of blood and words; inventing the way,
discovering its short cuts, constructing its landscape, delineating
its destiny; we go convinced, forging a man entirely
Man, its new world, understanding that when arriving we will have
to return to start off, not to back down in the terrreno of old history
that little by little our tracks are leaving, him in spite of that
it weighs to him, irremediably.


Title: Tracks of Resistance

Authors: Rodrigo Grion


Origin: Argentina


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